


Call of Duty

by sabrina_il (marina)



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Angst, Blow Jobs, Comfort Sex, Crack, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-25
Updated: 2013-06-25
Packaged: 2017-12-16 04:32:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/857817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marina/pseuds/sabrina_il
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I have been summoned,” PK Subban intones when Sid opens the door.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Call of Duty

**Author's Note:**

> So, I seem to have developed a disgusting habit of writing Sidney Crosby as seeking out comfort sex (sometimes with entirely the wrong people) in the wake of "tragic" events in his life. See also [that time he went to bug Giroux](http://archiveofourown.org/works/403095) and [that time he hooked up with Geno](http://archiveofourown.org/works/835084). 
> 
> This fic is set roughly in the same universe. MY APOLOGIES.
> 
> Beta by the amazing Roga.

“I have been summoned,” PK Subban intones when Sid opens the door.

“Uh,” Sid says. 

“To fulfill what is apparently my sacred, national duty?” PK says, squinting like he’s not sure.

“What?” Sid says.

“Seriously, dude? Giroux and then Geno? Seriously?” PK says, smile breaking over his face. 

“Oh my god,” Sid says, covering his face with his hands. “Just shut up and get in here.”

*

“So, I got a call from Keith and Seabrook--” PK starts to say when they’re in Sid’s living room, but Sidney doesn’t let him finish. 

He draws PK in, feels the soft fabric of PK’s t-shirt under his fingers, and kisses him. PK kisses back, open and enthusiastic, hands roaming over Sid’s back. Sid’s hands land in PK’s hair and PK pushes him, without breaking the kiss, walks them two steps backwards until Sid’s back is against the wall. 

"You wanna do this on a bed?" PK says, a little breathless, into Sid's ear.

"No," Sid says, sliding down to his knees. "Here's fine."

“Oh, fuck,” PK says, using the wall behind Sid for support while Sid undoes his pants and pulls his boxers down past his thighs. 

It’s kind of an awkward position but Sid’s confident he can make it work. He grabs PK’s cock and sucks on it, managing to put about half of it in his mouth, pulling on PK’s foreskin and rubbing his tongue along the ridge where the head meets the shaft. 

PK moans and bangs his fist against the wall when Sid takes his cock in all the way, Sid’s nose buried in PK’s pubic hair. Fuck, it feels good. Sid closes his eyes and lets himself feel it, lets PK fill his mouth and his senses, slides up and down and runs his tongue against the underside of PK’s cock as he goes. 

“Fuck, no, wait,” PK says, pushing Sid away and Sid feels so empty suddenly, like there’s something in him that’s aching - has been aching, mutely, vaguely in the background, since he watched Game 6, watched the Cup being handed to Jonathan Toews. But then PK repositions them, leans his back against the wall and gets Sid to sit between his legs and Sid gets to go back to what feels good. 

He sucks PK’s cock, listens to PK swear and moan and shudder above him and makes encouraging sounds when PK buries his hands in Sid’s hair. It doesn’t take long. Sid’s missed this - missed being able to bring a guy off, missed the hard floor under his knees and the wet sounds he makes - so he throws everything he’s got at PK. PK’s groans get louder and louder and soon he’s clutching Sid’s hair even tighter and whimpering “You should,” between one breath and the next and Sid gives him a determined look he hopes PK can read and swallows, over and over again, working his throat, until PK comes in his mouth. 

“Oh fuck,” PK sighs, catching his breath and stepping out of his pants and underwear. “I... I’m gonna return the favor, just give me a minute.”

“It’s fine,” Sid says, sitting back on his heels, wiping his lips with the back of his hand. 

“Fuck,” PK says, taking another deep breath. “They told me I wouldn’t regret this, but... damn.”

“Yeah,” Sid says. He should get off the floor. But it still feels so nice sitting here, looking up at PK. Staying here means not thinking about things a little longer.

PK wipes a hand over his face and pushes away from the wall, collapsing on a nearby sofa. “I voted for you, you know,” he says, one leg touching the floor. “Toews probably voted for you.”

Sid sighs, rises from the floor and sinks into the other sofa. “Thanks,” he says, and means it. “I’m sorry you got dragged into this. I don’t know what the fuck those two were thinking.”

“Team Canada, man,” PK says, grinning. “It’s all good. I get that your usual ride’s in Russia and I don’t blame Giroux for never wanting to see you again. Believe me,” PK says, rising up on his elbows. “This isn’t a hardship.”

“Whatever,” Sid says, throwing his head back and staring at the ceiling. “It’s still so embarrassing.”

PK laughs. “Pretty much. But at least we both get orgasms out of it?”

“I can live with that,” Sid says, rising from the sofa and extending a hand to PK. “I’ve got lube and condoms upstairs, if you want?”

PK’s smile can’t be described as anything but sly, as he grabs Sid’s hand.

**Author's Note:**

> There is no explanation for why this fic exists except that I think PK Subban is really hot and Sidney Crosby is also sort of hot and they would be really hot together. 
> 
> OK let's try a more detailed explanation: Jonathan Toews, who was the baby of the Canadian Olympic team the year Crosby won Canada the gold, now has more Stanley Cups than Crosby does. I feel like looking at a [photo like this](http://24.media.tumblr.com/4aba5f36e84f4b5d1932a706ef24799e/tumblr_moxpu68Cxj1qiipyqo1_500.jpg) would definitely be upsetting to Sid, OK. And then I thought, well, surely his fellow Team Canada peeps would think of that as well? And hey, Ovi's in London, Geno's in Russia and Giroux is definitely not going there again, so. Maybe they call up a different dude and ask him for a favor? Before Crosby embarrasses himself again? Crack, as you can understand, ensued.


End file.
